Sarah v The Wedding
by Traviosita9124
Summary: Sarah's never been good at dealing with an emotional overload... Charah. Mostly T, depending on how active your imagination is. I don't own any of them, I just write this for fun, people. Read and review, please!


A/N: This story has no connection to "Chuck v. New Year's Eve"; it's more of a stand alone, angst piece. Why a Catholic Church? Being from the Midwest, I've yet to meet someone who had a last name ending in "-ski" that wasn't at least nominally Catholic. I'm sure there are people out there to prove me wrong. Don't read into it; it's just a place to have a wedding, people; I'm not trying to push religion on anyone. Rated T/light M, for fairly obvious reasons, and as always, please review. It goes a long way to encourage me to write more, and my many thanks for reading.

-Katie

~*~*~*~*~*~

There were days where she hated her job.

No matter how many international drug cartels, assassins or gun smuggling operations she helped to dismantle, no matter how she had helped her country in hours of need, her job wasn't worth this. Here she was the wedding of the year (at least for her), standing inches from the object of her desire. On an altar.

Too bad the wedding wasn't their own.

Sarah watched, clutching her votive of yellow tea roses as Eleanor Fay Bartowski pledged her life to Devon Woodcomb at St. Anthony's Catholic Church. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions in check. She could almost imagine this being her wedding day, had she taken another path long, long ago, her in a stunning white dress with Chuck, looking at her with love and hope shining in his eyes.

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut for an instant. 'Almost over, Walker,' she told herself. 'You're almost out of here.'

~*~*~*~*~*~

There were days where he hated what had become his life.

She looked beautiful in her blue satin bridesmaid dress, long and clingy, low cut in the back… dangerously low cut at that. Even with the UCLA color-themed wedding, Sarah looked stunning. Chuck leaned against a wall, a smile playing across his lips as he watched her dance with his father; she'd been kind enough to humor him when he had insisted on dancing with the woman who had stolen his son's heart.

'If only he knew how true that was,' Chuck thought to himself, stealing himself to go over and cut in.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"May I cut in?"

Sarah jumped when she heard Chuck's voice. She had been with him only for as long as was absolutely necessary to protect their cover; she felt too raw today to be near him for too long. Too much contact with Charles Bartowski just may cause her to break. She wanted to protest his cutting in, but couldn't. She watched, helplessly, as the elder Bartowski gave his son a fatherly pat on the shoulder before handing her off.

And then he was in front of her, closer than even on the altar, his right hand settling on her hip as his left took her hand to begin leading the next dance. She did her best to give him a bright smile as he pulled her in close, but she lost it when she felt her chest press against his own, their joined hands pressed between them. With his hand burning a hole (or so it seemed) through her dress, Sarah began to sway with him in time to the music.

She kept her head turned slightly way, down into his chest, as they danced, desperately trying to keep tears back. She could see a life for the two of them: a wedding, a passionate honeymoon, children, supporting each other through careers, retirement, traveling the world together… growing old together. She didn't want to run around the world anymore; she had realized that almost a year ago, when she had agreed to go on a real date with Chuck. She'd give up her life of excitement with the US government for a life of normalcy with a sweet man from Encino.

"Sarah, what's wrong?"

She startled again; she hadn't realized just how lost in thought she had been.

"Hmm?"

"You're stiff as a board and you haven't looked at me once since we've started dancing. What's wrong?"

Panic swept through her. She couldn't tell him; they'd been through so much already, neither of them needed to drag up all those emotions and go through that kind of hell another time. She was sure they'd have another of their infamous talks sometime soon, but it didn't have to be tonight. She didn't have to ruin his memory of his sister's wedding just because she was overly emotional.

Turning her head into his neck, she murmured, "Everything's fine, Chuck."

~*~*~*~*~*~

He wished she hadn't said that. He knew it wasn't alright, it wasn't fine. She was upset and, as always, was refusing help from anyone. He fought his first reaction to get mad.

"Everything's not fine, Sarah," he whispered into her hair. "Please, don't make me guess. Just tell me. Let me help."

The world stood still as she pressed what felt like a kiss to the side of his neck and a shiver spread through him. Sarah looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and all he could think to do was kiss her.

So he did.

He made sure it was soft and sweet, giving her every chance to deny him, to stop him, to leave him. But she didn't. Instead she brought both her hands up to his neck, pulling him closer, creeping into his scalp and letting her nails rake through his hair as they kissed. He wound his arms around her back, trying to be whatever kind of anchor he could be for her.

Suddenly, she pulled away, her eyes surprisingly bright with something wild behind them. She took his hand and led him off the dance floor, moving faster as she led them to the door.

"Sarah, where are we going?" Chuck asked her. She looked like she wanted to devour him; it was a thought that thrilled him as much as scared him, but he knew Ellie would kill him if he missed anything important.

Instead, she towed him out into the corridor and next door into the unused half of their ballroom.

The stillness, the darkness in there was stifling.

Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness, Sarah at pulled him back to her, her back against the wall. The door, which she had left ajar, scattered a dull yellow light across the two of them. Chuck barely had a moment to catch his breath before Sarah's mouth crashed into his again.

Chuck Bartowski was no fool; he knew to take a good thing when it was in front of him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He tasted of champagne and wedding cake. He tasted sweet, and Sarah wanted to drown in that sweetness, something that Chuck seemed more than happy to oblige.

She tried to push her hips forward into him, trying to get more contact with the man she wanted (and yes, loved, if she were honest) more than anything else in the world. As he took his lips from hers in order to tend to her neck, Sarah felt her eyes slam shut, her breath rush out of her lungs. She'd known, ever since that night on the pier that he was a good kisser, but Christ… she could have sworn her brain was shutting down.

'This shouldn't happen,' she thought, 'I'm a government agen- God, let him do that again!'

~*~*~*~*~*~

All Chuck knew was he wasn't in control anymore.

She was beautiful and vibrant and willing beneath him. He savored the feel of her hands grasping at his back, the way she peppered any skin of his she could reach with kisses. Feeling bolder than he ever had before, he reached down, slowly sliding his hand over her satin-covered thigh. Without halting his kisses, he pulled Sarah's right leg up over his hip, pushing himself even closer to her.

He swelled with pride when he heard Sarah's gasp of astonishment as he pressed himself more fully against her center, and couldn't help his shit-eating grin when she used that leg to pull him closer and give him another kiss. Spurred on by the feeling of her high heel digging into his ass, he took her face in his hands and renewed his assault of her mouth.

Taking care to explore every inch of her, Chuck felt a feeling of absolute joy bubbling up in his chest. Wanting to see her, he opened his eyes, only to find that he couldn't find her in the dimly lit room.

He saw the faint outline of her face; he knew from memory what her eyes looked like, the tilt of her nose, the angle of her cheeks, even the gentle curve of her neck. But he couldn't find her in that darkened room.

Filled with realization, he pulled back slightly and stated, "It's too dark in here."

~*~*~*~*~*~

She reveled in the heat of him, how he had felt pressed so tightly against her; and when she felt his hardness pressed into that secret juncture of her thighs her mind had gone into overdrive imagining all of the things he could do to her.

She had images of her and Chuck as a tangle of bodies on her pristine bed in her fancy hotel; stretched out beneath his sheets, desperate for a few minutes of a lone time before Casey could tell what they were up to; scrunched into the back of his Herder, the windows fogged and the car rocking… and her personal favorite, Chuck bending her over the conference table in Castle, arching her back into him… Sarah felt another rush of arousal at the thought.

But suddenly his warmth was gone, her fantasy world fading before her eyes. She struggled to force her mind to comprehend what he was saying, that it was too dark.

All she could muster was a confused look and a troubled, "Chuck, what do you mean?"

Her confidence deflated as he gently unhooked her leg from his hip and pulled away. She noticed he was careful to only keep her hands in his grasp.

"What I mean, Sarah, is that we deserve better than something rushed in a darkened ballroom, hidden from our friends. We deserve to have something open and honest and long-lasting." He leaned into her to whisper in her ear; she shivered as his warm breath caressed her skin. "I want you, Sarah. I want nothing more than to go, rent a room and take you upstairs. But, not like this, Sarah. We deserve so much better than this, we deserve a real, solid relationship." He took a deep breath and stepped away, making sure to keep her hand in his.

That was her lifeline; it was a promise. It wasn't a rejection; it was a symbol of their possible future together. She barely contained a smile as she heard the opening strains of "Stand by Me" filter through from next door. It was incredibly appropriate.

"C'mon. Let's go. I'm sure they miss us."

She followed him to the door and back into the main ballroom, and even managed to relax into him when he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pulled her close. Morgan, mistakenly thinking what had almost happened did happen, gave Chuck a not-so-subtle "way to go man" wink.

Laughing it off, she lead Chuck back to the dance floor and placed one of his hands on her hip, and took the other with her own.

"Shall we try this again, Mr. Bartowski?"

"I'm ready whenever you are, Sarah. I'll be waiting."

And she knew without a doubt he was telling her the truth.


End file.
